


Forget Me Not

by chaostheoryy



Category: IT - Stephen King, It Chapter Two (2019)
Genre: AKA the scene we all didn't know we needed, AU where Richie is the one to help Eddie after getting stabbed, Canon Divergence - It Chapter Two, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Confessions, Cussing, Deleted Scenes, First Kiss, IT Chapter Two Spoilers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 00:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20826038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaostheoryy/pseuds/chaostheoryy
Summary: Richie makes the decision to stay in Derry and finish what the Losers started not because of Ben's motivational speeches, but because Eddie Kaspbrak is too stubborn to let him leave.





	Forget Me Not

Richie was out of there. No amount of ass kissing or heart-wrenching pep talks from Ben Hanscom was going to make him stay. There was a psychotic, murdering clown on the loose once again in Derry, Maine and Richie swore to Heaven and Hell that he wasn’t going to stick around to be its next victim. Especially when that psychotic, murdering clown was threatening to tell the rest of the Losers his deepest, darkest secret.

If Ben and his buddies wanted to hang out and fight that shapeshifting asshole, then good for them. But Richie had a very strong, very human desire to stay alive, even if that meant he would have to forget the Losers all over again. Even if that meant he would forget Eddie again...

Richie froze in the middle of his packing.

_Shit_.

If he grabbed all his things and got the hell out of Dodge, he’d be losing every memory he had regained of Eddie Kaspbrak: all those childish fights and impromptu sleepovers where Richie drove Eddie up the wall by talking his ear off; the hot summer afternoons they spent draped over each other in the hammock because one of them refused to give up their seat; the countless evenings that he dragged Eddie out of his house to futz around at the arcade despite Mrs. K’s yammering; and even all those crappy days in the school bathroom where Eddie tended to his bloody, battered face because Richie had been too stubborn to let Bowers make fun of their friendship. Every single one of those precious moments would vanish from his mind without a trace.

If he left Derry, he left Eddie.

“Dammit,” Richie grumbled, kicking the bed post hard enough to make his toes rattle in his shoe.

He wanted so badly to turn tail and run. But there was one thing on Earth he wanted more and that was to be with Eddie again. He hadn’t realized it as a kid —he was a trouble-making asshole back then so how could he— but the days he’d spent with Eddie by his side were the best he’d ever have. Sure making buttloads of money off of telling jokes was great, but what good did it do if Eddie wasn’t there to hear him tell those jokes. It was the crinkles around Eddie’s eyes when he smiled and the soft laughter that seemed to radiate like sunshine from his body that made Richie want to become a comedian in the first place. If only he could have remembered that fact every time he'd felt his stomach churn before a sold-out show.

A muffled commotion down the hallway drew Richie out of his thoughts. He heard the squeaking of shoes on wet tile and strained voices coming from Eddie's bathroom along with the rattling sound of shower curtains being violently ripped open. Something was wrong.

He stepped out of his room just as Eddie entered the hallway.

“Everything good, Eduardo?”

The answer to Richie’s question came quickly and without words when Eddie collapsed against the wall, hand clutching the side of his face. It was then that Richie saw the blood oozing from his mouth and seeping between his fingertips. Richie’s heart faltered.

He bolted over and put his hand over Eddie’s, doing his best to help stifle the bleeding.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Richie asked. His hand was shaking as he touched the other side of Eddie’s face.

Eddie was gasping for breath, eyes wide with fear.

“Bowers is in my room,” he said hoarsely.

Richie swallowed.

“Richie? What’s going on?”

Richie looked over his shoulder to see Ben and Beverly bounding up the stairs. Ben arrived at their side first, dropping to his knees on Eddie’s right.

“Oh my God,” Ben whispered, “What happened?”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond only to choke on his own blood. He coughed violently and grasped at Richie’s arm with his free hand.

“He said Bowers is in his room,” Richie replied on his behalf, shaking his head. “Why the fuck would Bowers be here? Mike knocked him down the well! There’s no fucking way he could’ve—“

Richie stopped when he saw the look on Ben’s face. They both knew the truth but neither of them wanted to say it out loud.

Henry Bowers was alive.

Ben grasped Richie’s shoulder firmly. “Stay here with Eddie,” he said sternly before jumping to his feet.

“Ben, wait! Don’t—!“

But Ben disappeared into Eddie’s room with Beverly hot on his heels before Richie could protest.

“Shit.”

“Richie…”

Richie looked down at Eddie as he wrapped his hand tightly around Richie’s wrist. Eddie coughed, blood sputtering from his lips as he tried to speak again.

“Hey, hey,” Richie cooed, “Take it easy, Eds. Don’t talk, alright? I’ve got you.”

Eddie nodded and let his thumb gently brush across the underside of Richie’s wrist — silent acknowledgment and confirmation that he would accept Richie’s help.

Richie looked up again as Ben and Beverly emerged from the bathroom. Fortunately, neither of them were scathed.

“Bowers is gone,” Ben remarked with a frown.

“_Gone_? Well, where the fuck did he go?”

Beverly looked sympathetic, even as she clarified. “He climbed out the bathroom window. Somebody was waiting for him in the parking lot. I don’t know who it is, but Bowers clearly isn’t working alone.”

“We’re going after him,” Ben added.

Richie blinked. “Are you fucking crazy? He almost killed Eddie! Something tells me he’s not gonna throw you guys a fucking pajama party when you find him.”

Beverly leaned down and placed a warm hand on Richie’s back. “We’re going to be okay, Richie. I promise,” she said softly, “Just take care of Eddie. We’ll be back.”

Richie swallowed and scanned her face for a moment. She was as determined as ever, her emerald eyes aglow with fiery tenacity that gave way only to her undeniable compassion. Despite being separated for nearly three decades, Richie knew he could trust her.

Richie nodded.

He closed his eyes as Beverly pressed a quick but tender kiss to Richie’s temple. Then, without another word, she followed Ben to the staircase and headed down to chase after Bowers.

Richie looked at Eddie to find his companion’s brow cocked in curiosity.

“You and Bev…?”

Richie rolled his eyes and gave Eddie’s injured cheek the lightest tap. Eddie hissed.

“Just ‘cause you’ve got a hole in your face doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you,” Richie said sternly. He hooked his arm under Eddie’s and helped hoist him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital so we can patch you up.”

Eddie used him as a support, keeping his free arm hooked around Richie’s waist while the other kept pressure on his cheek. Richie didn’t mind the contact one bit.

* * *

The trip to the ER was quick. The doctor stitched Eddie’s cheek back together and slapped a bandage over the repairs to protect the sutures from the everyday dust and dirt blowing around in the wind. Even with all the paperwork and aftercare instruction, they were in and out of the hospital before sundown.

“Honestly though,” Eddie asked as they made their way back to the car, “How do I look?”

Richie gave him a sideways glance. “Like you got stabbed in the face.”

“Fuck you, dude.”

Richie laughed and clapped him on the back. “I’m messing with you, man. You look fine.” He let his hand gently rub Eddie’s back. “Still kissable.”

“What?”

Richie’s stomach twisted itself into a knot and his cheeks flushed the second he realized what he’d said. _Fuck. Shit. Recover!_

“You know what I mean,” he said quickly, yanking his hand from Eddie’s back to shove it in his coat pocket, “Bowers may have carved your cheek like the Joker, but the pecker is still intact so no harm, no foul.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t question his offhanded comment any further.

“We’re going to go after him, aren’t we?” Eddie asked.

“Who?”

“Bowers.”

Richie frowned. “_What_? No way! Fuck that! No offense, but I’m not really looking to get stabbed in the face too.”

“We can’t let Ben and Bev go after him on their own,” Eddie retaliated, “What if something happens to them?”

“What if something worse happens to you, Eddie? What if we find Bowers and he shanks you in the fucking kidney?” Richie jabbed his index finger into Eddie’s stomach. “You got lucky this time around but luck fucking runs out, man! If we chase after Henry Bowers, or Pennywise, or whatever other murdering psychopaths still live in this stupid town, one of us is going to die!”

“Look, Rich, I know you’re scared but—“

“Of course I’m fucking scared, Eds! Twelve hours ago I didn’t even know who Pennywise was and suddenly I sit down in a room with people I met as a kid and it all comes rushing back to me. I spent twenty-seven fucking years not realizing what I was missing and now that I finally, _finally, _got it all back— now that I finally got _you_ back,” Richie blurted without even thinking about the words coming out of his mouth, “I can’t risk losing you, alright? I just can’t.”

Richie’s chest heaved. He couldn’t catch his breath. Every suppressed feeling he’d had since arriving in Derry had washed over him at once and now he finally felt like he was able to pull himself out from underneath the violent waves.

Eddie stared at him in silence. The expression on his face was almost impossible to pinpoint. He looked surprised and scared and conflicted all at once.

Richie swallowed the lump in his throat and ground his teeth together. “Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shut up,” Eddie cut him off, hand raised in that signature I’m-About-To-Verbally-Tear-You-To-Shreds Eddie Kaspbrak gesture. “Shut. Up.”

Richie clenched his jaw.

“As pathetic as it sounds, I’m just gonna come out and say it: I am scared shitless. I am! I want nothing more than to get in my car and slam on the gas and get as far away from here as humanly possible. Believe me, I do. But I’m not going to. Do you know why? Because Ben and Beverly and Mike and Bill and even you, dumbass, are my friends. And friends don’t abandon each other. Stan is dead, Richie. It got to him even though he was hundreds of miles away from Derry. If we run away now without killing Pennywise or whatever It really is, we may forget all about this shitty ass nightmare but it wouldn’t even fucking matter. We’d all end up dead anyway. And you know what?” Eddie let out a breath of laughter. “As crazy as it fucking sounds, I would rather be murdered trying to save my friends than die at home having completely forgotten about them.”

Richie nodded and lowered his head in shame. He was being a coward. Eddie was right: the Losers needed their help.

“Fine,” Richie sighed dramatically in defeat as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket, “Let’s go find Bowers before he stabs somebody else in the face.”

Richie turned and started circling around the back of his Mustang to climb inside only to have a hand firmly grab his wrist and yank him backward. Richie blinked and all of a sudden Eddie was spinning him around and shoving him against the trunk.

“I wasn’t done, dickhead,” Eddie said sternly.

“Jesus, Eds!” Richie rubbed his lower back where his spine had collided with the car, “_Ow_.”

Eddie pursed his lips together. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to— Whatever, you’ll be fine. Don’t be a baby.”

Richie gave him a look.

“I missed you, alright?” Eddie said suddenly, “Even though I didn’t realize it ’til we got back here, I missed having you around. You’re loud and obnoxious and stupid as shit—“

“Hey!”

Eddie raised his hand again to shut him up. “—But you are the single most important person in my life and I am not leaving Derry until I am a hundred percent sure I will never forget you again.” Richie could see Eddie’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I need you, Rich.”

Richie’s breath caught in his throat as he studied Eddie’s expression. This wasn’t a joke. Eddie was being completely serious about how much Richie meant to him. A part of Richie had known that that need for one another was reciprocated but to hear it out loud…Richie felt like he could fly.

Richie took a step forward and placed a hand on Eddie’s good cheek. He waited for a moment to see how he would react. Eddie didn’t run or push his hand away or even snap at him about having dirty hands with unknown diseases crawling on his skin. He simply stood there and accepted the touch. Richie smiled.

“I always knew you were gay for me,” Richie teased.

Eddie rolled his eyes and smacked him on the stomach with the back of his hand. “Shut up, asshole.”

Richie laughed and pulled Eddie against him. Eddie squirmed and mumbled violent curses until Richie wrapped him up in his arms and gave him a proper embrace. Then, ever so shyly, Eddie hugged him back.

“I hate you so much,” Eddie mumbled as he buried his face in the crook of Richie’s neck.

Richie sighed happily and pressed the sides of their heads together. “I know you do.” He closed his eyes and gently rubbed Eddie’s back, focusing on the smell of his hair gel and the warmth of his body. “That’s why, when all this bullshit clown-killing business is over, I’m gonna go downtown and get a bunch of t-shirts with my ugly face printed on them so you can walk around and preach to strangers about how much Trash Mouth Tozier sucks.”

Eddie’s chest vibrated with a chuckle.

“Consider it a romantic gesture,” Richie added.

Eddie tilted his head back so he could look Richie in the face. Underneath the lamplight, his brown eyes were soft and warm like two pools of thick, melted chocolate.

“You know most people kiss after admitting they’re into each other,” he murmured softly.

Richie put on a dramatically oblivious expression. “I thought you said you hated me!”

Eddie scoffed. “Uh, don’t get me wrong, dipshit, I do hate you. But, unfortunately, I also kinda love you.

Richie cracked a smile so big he thought his jaw would detach from his skull. “Don’t worry, Eds, I know,” he replied as he pressed their foreheads together, “I hate you too.”

Eddie closed the distance between their mouths and kissed him. It was chaste and gentle, yet comfortable and reassuring — a perfect first kiss. Richie never wanted it to end.

“Alright, we better cut the sappy shit before you shove your tongue in my mouth and rip my cheek open again,” Eddie teased once he pulled away.

“Who said I was going to put my tongue in your mouth? French kissing is disgusting, Eddie, come on. I would never.”

“Shut up and get in the car, dickwad. We’ve got shit to take care of.”

Richie followed Eddie’s lead and collapsed in the driver’s seat as Eddie slid through the passenger’s side doorway. “Where we goin’, Eduardo? You’re the navigator.”

“Our best bet at piecing this shitshow together is Mike.”

“Library it is,” Richie said. He held out his hand. “Hey, Eds? Let’s go kill that mullet-wearing asshole.”

Eddie looked at his face, then down at his waiting palm. He slapped his hand on top of Richie’s and squeezed.“Let’s fucking do it.”


End file.
